What is up with all this hair?
I was standing in the middle of Boots the Chemist the other day with a full basket of products, when I realised that every single one of them was devoted to some type of hair or other – head, body, whatever. And every type of hair seemed to be becoming increasingly problematic as, and I can’t really avoid saying it, I seem to have become a little bit middle-aged.
My actual hair used to be a pretty, shiny brown, and there was a reasonable amount of it. Now it would be a wild white mop if it didn’t have £80 a month of professional cutting and colouring, special shampoos for coloured hair, heat-protective sprays, serums to stop the ends looking like I stuck my fingers in the electrical socket, a special “hair lipstick” for colouring in the badger roots just before a colouring appointment, and so forth. And at the same time as it’s got wilder, it’s also got finer and thinner and I have to blow-dry it very carefully to make it sit in a reasonably balanced semblance of order.
Working downwards, my eyebrows (at least they’re not white, I suppose) need regular threading. And tweezing every day. And my eyebrow lady recently told me that I’d look a lot more attractive if my brows came in a little more in the middle. About 5mm. It seems I have a horrifying, boss-eyed stare at present. I expect AB would propose forthwith if I sorted that out.
My lashes are fine – as in there isn’t very much to them. Again, at least they’re not white. But I’ve started using Rapidlash (a sort of non-prescription Latisse-lite) on them – and I swear that it’s working. They’re definitely, noticeably longer. Weirdly, some are quite a lot longer than others. Maybe I’ll have to start having them professionally trimmed soon – but this is shaping up to be the one nice big expensive triumph in my body-hair life.
Without going into vomit-inducing detail, there seems to be more, and a greater variety of, body hair to deal with these days. Some needs professional attention. I’m not going to wax myself – although my lovely beautician, Alice, got so fierce at last week’s appointment that I may have to rethink that one. She was giving off about how some people have children without thinking about the responsibilities involved, and as her ire grew, the wax seemed to be whipped off with a fast increasing ouch factor. But even then there’s also a lot of frequent shaving, with all the attendant products, going on. How can I have hairs on my TOES now? What is that about?
Overall, my body seems to have instituted a policy of making the hair I’d like to have more pathetic and difficult to deal with – and superboosting all the hair I could well do without. I might as well have my salary paid directly to Boots plc and invite my various professional lovelies to take up residence. It’s fast getting to that point.
Isn’t getting older fun? And it’s going to get even better. I was watching Dr. Oz the other day and he said that you actually have less hair in your 40s and then get more in your 50s because you lose your estrogen, which is what stops your from producing so much hair. Greeeaaat.
oh I needed a laugh. I spent most of my trip losing, buying shampoo, wishing I had a better hair dryer, wishing for better water pressure oh and also better hair. I won’t even let Martin see me without a recent pedicure which will get expensive after he moves here. But at least he has hair in his ears so I think we are even. If I can live with that…he can live with mine!
Hair is a big deal! Even Hillary C knows that. I’ve learned to combat long-distance hair mess by buying an American hairdryer and using different products there – though my hair gets completely destroyed in Florida every time. AB hasn’t a desperate lot of hair himself, so he has no right to have strong opinions on mine, as his sister once pointed out, but one likes to try one’s best even so.